


A Meal To Remember

by ladykardasi



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, First Time, Food Kink, M/M, Virgin Spock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 16:58:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10903614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladykardasi/pseuds/ladykardasi
Summary: Spock is treating Kirk to some food that short-circuits his brain.





	A Meal To Remember

You're not supposed to want to make love to your first officer, I tell myself. Damn, but that is exactly what I want, and I want it badly. Seeing him out of control and in the throes of the plak tow hadn’t made things easier for me; that much is certain. I had never seen him as a passionate being before. Not knowing what was beneath his cool exterior made it easier for me to set aside my own desires. Quenching my feelings is more difficult now. He's been withdrawn ever since we were on Vulcan and we haven't really talked about what happened then. I lift my glass and sip the wine. A green, Vulcan wine, made from a fruit similar to Earth's grapes, it has a subtle, fruity flavor, lighter than red wine but fuller than white, rather dry, perfect for a vegetarian meal. 

Spock sits in front of me, casually sipping his wine as well. He doesn't drink alcohol often, but mostly when we're sharing these "cultural" meals he does order alcoholic beverages. Right now we're waiting for our dinner. We decided to eat in the suite since the combined bar and restaurant below was too crowded and noisy. We both enjoy conversation with our meals, and this setting will allow it, but right now there is no conversation. Spock is very quiet. 

"Did you have a chance to go to the Levarian Gardens today?" I ask, just to break the silence. Spock seems content to just sit and wait, but obviously I'm less relaxed than he is. 

"Yes, I did," Spock replies but doesn't elaborate. 

"Was it all that you had expected?" I prod. 

"Indeed."

Again, Spock refuses to describe his visit to the gardens. I give up. It seems he isn't in a mood to talk, and trying to converse with him when he's like that is usually like pulling teeth. 

The setting in the room makes me fidgety. It's too intimate, damned near romantic with the soft lighting and the dark colors in the room. I had no idea what the rooms would be like when I reserved the suite. The interior reminds me of the kind of place where I'd take a beautiful lover with seduction in mind, and it makes me uncomfortable. The bed is only a few feet away and with the thoughts that have been occupying me…. 

I've been looking forward to spending time with Spock, but not like this. Thank God, shore leave has its advantages; at least I can find someone to share my bed later this night after my meal with Spock. It won't be the same, it won't be what I want, but it'll have to suffice.

"I hope that this Vulcan dish is edible," I tease, trying to get my thoughts away from the disturbing subject. I shift in my seat and cross my legs. This is getting intolerable. Right now I am acutely aware of why I want him so much. Being this close to him is tearing down the carefully built walls of professionalism that I hide behind when we are on duty. I now have the opportunity to watch him without having to remember all my obligations on the Enterprise. He's attractive, that's true, but that isn't really what brought me to this. It's so much more; his unwavering loyalty, the subtle humor, the intelligence and the fact that he's the best friend I've got. The fact that he is always there, no matter what. Why wouldn't I want him? 

What would he say if he knew? I watch his cool exterior. No, Spock is Spock. I'll just have to live with my feelings, as I've done so far. 

"I am quite certain that you will find the meal agreeable. It is of course vegetarian, but I have yet to meet someone who does not enjoy the Sa'tai-i dish."

"What is it?" I ask for the second time and Spock simply quirks an eyebrow at me, still not seeming very interested in deepening our conversation. His dark eyes are filled with amusement. He watches me calmly and for some reason I feel my cheeks warm. I can't read the expression on his face. 

Sharing meals like this is something we've been doing for a long time now. Each shore leave one of us will pick a restaurant and treat the other to a dish we like. Usually, I try to get Spock to enjoy Terran food and Spock treats me to Vulcan dishes. Occasionally, we sample another alien cuisine like Andorian food. However, we’ve decided that what little Klingon food we have tried isn't to our tastes. Their menus don't seem to offer much vegetarian food, and I prefer my meat cooked, or at least not moving on the plate. 

For the most part our meals are pleasurable, but I can think of one or two instances when we just weren't in agreement. To this day, Spock cannot eat pizza, just because I had ordered one with hot peppers on it. I'd forgotten that he is less tolerant of spices than I am. It was not a hit. 

I also remember that time when Spock wanted me to taste the Ma'nu'ah. It is a soup made from some kind of Vulcan vegetable that grows at the bottom of the few lakes on the planet. For Vulcans, this is a rare and highly priced delicacy. To me, it was slimy and the taste reminded me of mushrooms. I do not like mushrooms. That particular meal ended with me crouched over the head. Spock was most apologetic of course, and the experience made us a bit more cautious in our approach to foreign dishes. Thankfully, these “accidents” haven't ruined our tradition. 

A knock on the door interrupts my musings. 

"Come," I say, and a young man enters our suite. He rolls the serving cart to our table and lifts the lid of one of the pots.

"This is the Sa'tai-i," the waiter explains. "The chef sends his regards and hopes you will enjoy his efforts."

"I am certain that we will," Spock replies. "Everything seems as it should."

I lean over curiously. The Sa'tai-is remind me vaguely of thin cucumbers. They are long, smooth, pale green, and apparently fried in some kind of sweet sauce. They smell incredibly good, buttery with a faint whiff of burnt sugar. Other Vulcan vegetables are placed decoratively around the main course, and I know I'm going to enjoy this meal if the aroma is any indication.

"You're indulging yourself tonight, I take it?" I tease, flashing a smile at Spock. 

"We had agreed not to allow nutritional value to rule our dinners, or to avoid slightly unhealthy foods at these occasions. If I remember your words correctly you said 'I'll be damned if I'll let Bones ruin our dinners together. Tonight we eat cheese fondue and to hell with calories'. After that you proceeded to inform me that these evenings were 'sacred.'"

"Your memory is impeccable, as always, Mr. Spock," I chuckle. It pleases me that he remembers that conversation, to know that he enjoys our meals together, and that he doesn't feel averse to indulging himself occasionally. 

The waiter leaves us to our meal and I watch as Spock prepares to serve us. This is a routine we established long ago. The one who chooses the meal serves it and explains how it is supposed to be eaten. 

"This dish is ancient, and long ago, during the great drought, Sa'tai-i was the only food that was still easily obtainable on Vulcan, due to its ability to store large amounts of water during even the harshest of conditions. When the drought was over, my people decided to make it one of the obligatory dishes at any cultural gathering, to remind us of its importance to our people's survival and out of respect for its endurance."

"That's right, I have seen this vegetable before," I agree, remembering it from some diplomatic function. "But I don't think I've seen it served quite like this."

"No, I would think not. This is a very old recipe, not commonly served at any restaurants or social gatherings. It is actually quite messy to eat."

I have to laugh at that. “Messy” is not a word I would associate with Vulcans in general and Spock in particular. An elegant eyebrow lifts at me. 

"Go on. Don't mind me."

Spock does. "Thankfully, the chef at this hotel was trained by a Vulcan. I had to speak with him to inform him of how to properly prepare the meal."

I watch as Spock serves us both. This is always exciting, tasting and trying new foods. As an adventurer this is only another way of indulging that side of myself. Being able to share these meals with Spock is as sacred to me as our private chess games. Admittedly, part of my enjoyment comes from having him all to myself with no interruptions. 

"All right. How do I eat these?" I ask and look down at my plate. Spock serves me five of the Sa'tai-is, as well as a generous amount of the other vegetables. My mouth waters and I realize that I'm famished.

"Traditionally, they are meant to be eaten with your hands. Thus, there is no cutlery, and the scented cloth is for wiping your fingers before you eat and when you are finished. Just observe me and do the same."

I watch Spock's long-fingered hands as he wipes them off on the cloth. Then he takes hold of one of the Sa'tai-is and lifts it to his mouth. 

Time suddenly freezes, or maybe my heart stops in my chest. 

Spock opens his mouth wide, leans his head back, and takes the vegetable into his mouth. It must be about six inches long and Spock just keeps feeding it into his mouth, between those gorgeous lips, down his throat…. I hardly notice that he chews and swallows; the image of his lips closing around the vegetable is burnt into my eyes. 

I'm instantly, achingly hard. Images of Spock taking me into his mouth flash through my mind, and I have to close my eyes not to moan aloud. The shock of my sudden, instinctive reaction is indescribable, so unexpected, like a blow to my stomach.

Spock's got four of those things still on his plate. I can't imagine excusing myself, and I can't tell Spock to cut the Sa'tai-is up to eat them. They are supposed to be eaten like this…. Yet, I can't imagine how I'm possibly going to be able to endure eating this way in front him, watching him repeatedly. Spock chews and swallows. I'm falling to pieces. He seems completely unperturbed, however, and waits patiently. 

"Now you try, Jim," he says calmly. "You will find them to your liking, I am sure." 

My hand is trembling as I reach to the side of my plate. While cleaning my hands thoroughly with the warm cloth, a faint whiff of lemon reaches my nostrils. I know I'm stalling, but by god, I am so hard. My response has taken me completely by surprise, and I have to calm down somehow. Shooting a glance at Spock, I see dark eyes watching me patiently, unfailingly, and with no outward sign that he has realized how I reacted. 

Of course Spock doesn't understand, can't understand what is going through my mind at this very moment. Spock is Vulcan, and Vulcans do not react that way. 

This is food, not a sexual overture.

Finally, I steel myself, reach for one of the cucumber-like vegetables, and lift it to my mouth. I close my eyes to shield myself from the view of Spock watching me, and then I open wide, taking the vegetable in my mouth, slowly, all the way in, just like Spock did. I lick the sauce off it, savoring the taste, and let out a contented sound. I can always try to get a reaction out of Spock. He has surprised me before. 

Fantasies of me doing this to Spock, making him gasp with pleasure, are flooding my mind. I ache and grow more excited. I try to force myself not to think about that, but it's very difficult. The Sa'tai-i is smooth, thick, and warm and I wonder if this is what Spock would feel like. 

I try to concentrate on the food and it's delicious. The Sa'tai-i has a slightly bitter tang to it that's counterbalanced by the buttery-sweet taste of the sauce it is fried in. I swallow. Done. I managed it. I open my eyes and look at Spock. There's a slight green tinge to his cheeks that wasn't there before. Is it possible that he is actually embarrassed? Did he see the potential sexual overtones in the way we're eating these things or not? Could that be his intention? 

Sometimes I swear that Spock is still a virgin, but the mind boggles at the thought. He can't possibly have gone through so many years completely deprived of sexual attention, Vulcan or not. But perhaps he hasn't accepted any of the offers made to him. I swallow once more. The mere thought of introducing Spock to the pleasures of the flesh….

I shift in my seat. The need that floods me is making me uncomfortable, both physically and mentally. 

I can't look away when Spock lifts the next vegetable on his plate. Good God, those fingers seem perfectly made for caresses. I lick my lips; my mouth has gone so dry. Our eyes meet and suddenly the air is crackling between us. There's a glimpse of something in his eyes. Fear and arousal. I could bet my life on it. 

As Spock lifts the vegetable to his mouth, our gazes lock and hold. I am transfixed as he wraps his lips around the Sa'tai-i and more and more of it disappears into his mouth. The expression in his eyes changes and becomes challenging. 

Without thinking, I reach out and grab his wrist. Spock swallows and looks at me but doesn't pull away when I lean over the table. Our eyes are still locked, and his widen in surprise as my tongue flicks out and I lick away the remnants of the sauce from his fingers. They curl under the caress, as if wanting to get closer and pull away at the same time. His pulse is beating so fast under my fingers, and I can feel the muscles in his hand tense, but I won't let go and Spock makes no real effort to escape. His eyes are half-closed as I lick his palm delicately, savoring the taste of the sauce, and nibble my way along his hand, moving towards his fingers. A tremble goes through Spock's body and he gasps. 

That gasp goes right through me. 

"Jim. What are you doing?" His voice is so low, rumbling through his chest. It feels like a caress to my ears.

"Tasting the Sa'tai-i," I reply breathlessly, hoping that Spock won't pull away. Not now. 

"This would seem a very inefficient means of doing so," he says hoarsely. "I am not certain this is a good idea."

My stomach clenches. 

"This is a very good idea, Spock," I disagree, and keep nibbling my way up his fingers. 

"Ah, Jim…" Spock squirms in his seat, trying to pull away at the same time that his fingers spread to allow better access. He's tormented by this, and I'm fascinated. He wants it. I can see it in his eyes, yet years of Vulcan restraint and cultural taboos make it so difficult for him to let go. I want him to know that it's all right. I want him to know that he can let go with me, because I would never let him down or hurt him in any way. 

"Trust me, Spock," I whisper. "Please, trust me."

He moans as I kiss his palm, sweeping my wet tongue over the roughness of his skin. 

"I do, Jim. I do trust you…. That is not…. "

"It is all that matters, Spock. I would never hurt you."

"I know."

"I would never betray you."

"No."

"Enjoy this, Spock. It's all right."

My eyes lock with his and we stay like that for a moment. Slowly, asking permission with my eyes, I continue toward his fingers, licking them. Spock's head falls back at that, and he moans. His brief resistance disappears without a trace, and the tension of indecision slowly bleeds out of his limbs. 

I can't believe my eyes. I'm licking those beautiful fingers and I expected him to enjoy it, but Spock's reaction is violent. His entire body tenses anew and his face contorts in pleasure. I pull my chair closer and revel in the view before me. He is now reclining completely in his chair, legs stretched out and parted wide. The bulge in his pants speaks volumes and his ragged breathing is even more eloquent. 

I want to touch him. I want to let my fingers run across his thighs, move upwards to finally cup his erection in my hand. I don't. I'm awed by what the touch of my mouth on his hands does to him. 

I lick my way over his palm and his fingers once more and Spock lets out a whimper of need. It makes me want to pull him to me, kiss him and ravish him, but what I'm doing is so delicate. Suddenly I feel insecure. What else makes him feel good? I'm on uncharted waters here. I want to make him writhe in ecstasy. I need him to want me as much as I want him. 

Suddenly, I remember the way Vulcan couples use their fingers. It seems their hands are erogenous zones. Applying myself more enthusiastically to the task, I open my mouth and take Spock's index and middle fingers inside, licking, sucking and bathing them with my saliva. They are hot inside my mouth, tasting vaguely of salt and burnt sugar. Beneath it is the bitter tang of the Sa'tai-i and the mixed flavors are pleasant. 

A sudden awareness comes to me then. It's as if Spock is physically transmitting the pleasure he gets from my touch. Seeing him like this is such a rush, a euphoria I've never experienced. He lifts his head and looks at me through half-lidded eyes and the desire there stabs at me and I gasp. It's Spock looking at me with such need in his gaze. Others have looked at me that way, but somehow it has never meant this much. It has never undone me like this.

Oh God. I want him to touch me, I need it more than he knows, but I push that selfish need away and allow my gaze to stay locked with his. His eyes are still filled with passion but also reveal a hint of discomfort and even some fear. I don't want him to be afraid, and I try to convey how much I care for him through my eyes. 

I rake my teeth carefully along the slender fingers, all the way to the fingertips. Spock moans aloud and his head relaxes against the back of his chair again. The moan makes my breath catch, the sound telling me that Spock is enjoying this so much that he can't control himself completely. I watch as his other hand grips the edge of the table so desperately that his knuckles turn white. The desire to bury myself in his flesh is almost overpowering. I want to touch more of him than I am. I want his hands on my body, want him to ravish me. I'm so excited I almost can't stand it. 

"Spock," I whisper as I pull my mouth off his hand. His eyes open just a little bit. "Come," I continue and rise to my feet, pulling him toward the bed. I'm trembling with the effort to hold back. I don't want to scare him with the intensity of my need and my want. I cling to my own control with all my might. It's so hard not to let go, not to show him how much he affects me. Spock seems dazed and he is flushed. 

"Jim," he protests. "We should not. I have not…."

I don't want to listen, but I have to. I can't push him into something he doesn't want. I halt for a moment, forcing myself to pull back a little, which is even more difficult than I expected. I look into his eyes, asking his permission, begging him to let me go on. He relaxes again, giving me the right to continue. 

I push an unresisting Spock down on the bed and straddle him. Feeling his erection pressing against my ass, I rub myself against him and we both moan aloud at the sensation. 

"Jim. This feels so…so good. I did not realize…" he whispers. His voice is unsteady as he speaks and I watch him close his eyes in abandon as he arches against me. I've never seen him like that, lips wet, cheeks flushed, and breathing erratic. I never realized what it would do to me. His words go straight to my heart. 

"Yes, Spock. I know…. " 

I lean forward and hold his hand. I take the index finger into my mouth and our gazes lock again. I see the desire in his eyes and I'm grateful for it. I keep sucking at his fingers, licking all the way to the top and back down again, flicking my tongue between them. Spock bucks beneath me, rubbing himself against me shamelessly. 

"Jim, I will…" Spock moans again and his breath catches. "I will orgasm if you continue." 

"Does it feel that good?" I'm amazed at how sensitive his fingers are. 

Spock seems unable to find the words. He simply looks at me and stops moving, as if trying to collect himself. I don't want him to stop and think. If he does, his impeccable logic might reassert itself and ruin this precious moment. I lean down and kiss him on the mouth, just because I can't help myself, just because I want to kiss him so much. The lips against mine are warm and soft and I want to ravish him. Another hot surge of desire runs through me, but I have no idea if Spock actually enjoys kissing, so I pull back quickly, even if I don't want to. His eyes are darker now, the pupils fully dilated, and his breathing is still ragged. 

"Do you want me to continue?"

"This is…most pleasurable, Jim."

My tongue flicks out and I move it slowly over the back of his hand until I reach the fingertips again. I pull the index finger into my mouth once more, sucking eagerly, licking a little faster. He pushes his finger deeper inside my mouth, in and out, desperate for more, and I take it willingly. 

Seeing his reaction effectively squashes any feeling of awkwardness I might feel at sucking his fingers like this. A rush of emotions courses through me: tenderness for this man, my friend, to whom I never believed I would come this close; awe at the fact that he is allowing me to see him like this. I watch the abandon on his face, the pleasure contorting his features, as he allows me to see him in a way I've never seen him before, aroused, needy and desperate. The trust he shows in me humbles and excites me. 

He thrashes his head back and forth on the pillow, mussing his hair. He's getting closer. I can feel it. He's going to come and I groan around his finger. The sensation of him beneath me is incredible. My eyes are glued to his face, and I'm committing all I see to memory as his release approaches. Suddenly, he arches his back, rubbing himself against my ass. So good, I'm on the edge too. Close, so close, but not close enough. Strong hands grab my hips to hold me steady as he grinds against me. 

He's coming, my God, he's coming. 

"Jim!" 

He throws his head back, face flushed, eyes closed. His breath is coming in low, husky moans now. He tenses against me and I can feel the convulsions in his cock. I can feel the moistness between us, through our clothes, as the semen spurts from him. 

I made Spock lose control. 

It's a heady feeling to know that I can provoke such pleasure in him. It's turning me on like nothing else ever has. Good God, I want him so much and I'm on the verge of coming, too. I gasp and look into his eyes. 

¤¤¤¤

Coldness is spreading inside me and I feel mortified. I have made a complete fool out of myself by losing control so utterly. What will he think of me now? I dare not even look at him. By achieving orgasm so quickly, so easily, I have revealed to Jim how inexperienced I am in this matter. 

I had not ever intended to reveal how attracted I am to him. Now, from a mere touch, all my carefully built shields have crumbled and turned to dust. From the first moment I observed his lips closing around the Sa'tai-i, I was lost. I, who never anticipated this change in our relationship, invited this. As I realized the sexual undertones between us, I welcomed them, and challenged him to seduce me. The decision was made carelessly and without thoughts of the inevitable repercussions. 

Without a single word or a glance at him, I push my hands against his warm chest. I am appalled at the longing I feel inside at this simple action. I want to pull him back against me. I wish to feel his lips moving against mine again. A kiss has never been this pleasurable before. I only wish he had not pulled away so quickly. 

I reach for my control. How humiliating this situation is. I force myself not to feel the warmth of Jim's body beneath the clothing as I push him off me, get out of the bed, and walk away. He is seductive, alluring and I can no longer endure the emotions he provokes in me. The passion burns inside me still, and I must flee. 

"Spock, wait!"

Not heeding the words coming from Jim, I keep walking. I cannot stand being here. I feel uncomfortable, and the cold stickiness in my trousers only serves to embarrass me further. 

"Spock."

I hear the persistent voice on the other side of the bathroom door as I lock it behind me, but I shut it out as efficiently as I am able. Luckily, I will not have to go back through Jim's part of the suite to enter my own. I undress swiftly, wash myself thoroughly, and throw the dirty clothes in the washing unit. I am not certain I will ever wear those garments again. Illogical, perhaps, but true nonetheless.

Halting in front of the mirror, I splash cold water on my face. How could I do this? It is illogical to wish something undone, but I still cannot comprehend how this could have happened. How could I have allowed myself to lose control so completely? 

I did not anticipate Jim's reaction, nor the look on his face when I first showed him how to eat the vegetables. At first it puzzled me greatly, but then…. I am still able to see him eating one of the Sa'tai-is, his lips and his tongue as he devoured the food. 

Even now, desire shoots through me at the memory, and a moan escapes my lips. My body is still highly sensitive and I feel ashamed. Never before have I become aroused so quickly. Jim's mouth on my fingers sent jolts of pleasure through my entire being, down to my genitals, making me instantly hard. I could not have stopped the intensity of my desire or the subsequent orgasm if my life had depended on it. 

I begged for him to continue and asked him to pleasure me. I cringe at the memory. 

Never in my life have I felt such pleasure. Nothing in the plak tow prepared me for this. What I feel with Jim is different, an emotional need that must be satisfied, not like the plak tow which was simply a physical function I could not control. I would not have allowed any other to bring me to this state. I do not know if anyone else could. It is frightening, the way Jim moved through all my defenses without effort, revealing the most secret parts of me. 

I pull my hands away from my face and meet my own eyes in the mirror. Do I look different? Examining myself carefully, scrutinizing my sharp, familiar features I see that my face still shows the same calm exterior, but I recognize the fire that has been kindled in my eyes. The desire I feel shames me. Will I ever be able to conceal it again? I allowed Jim to see me completely vulnerable as all logic was stripped from me. He showed more control in this instant than I did. Jim is not Vulcan. He is a highly sexual being. Why was he not overtaken by the same intense arousal? I do not know what Jim feels and it frightens me. 

I pull on my robe and walk out of the bathroom. Meditation would be in order, but I am not sure I will be able to calm myself enough to find solace. I am still intensely aroused and still ashamed. There is such violent turmoil in me, as if logic and emotion are battling for supremacy. Which will win, I do not know. 

¤¤¤¤

What the hell happened? One minute Spock was lying underneath me, extremely turned on and apparently enjoying my caresses very much. Or did I completely misunderstand the whole scenario? 

No!

The dark flush on Spock's cheeks and the moans that escaped his lips spoke their own language. The desire that shone through his normally calm eyes was not my imagination. I didn't misunderstand his reaction and I made him come, for heaven's sakes! Even the memory makes me moan. I'm still so hard it hurts. Not even Spock's unexpected retreat afterwards has managed to calm me down. 

Captain Kirk, always ready and willing, I mock myself, as I rise to my feet and run unsteady fingers through my hair. What am I going to do now? Spock obviously isn't ready to talk to me, but why? What did I do wrong? What frightened him so? Was it because I came on too strong, or did he somehow understand what lies behind my physical desire for him? Does he know how I feel? Is that what scared him? But I can't believe that Spock would leave me like that if that were the case. My feelings would never frighten him. 

I pace the hotel suite for a while before the truth comes to me. Damn, I know Spock well enough that the reasons why he left should have been clear to me right away. When I think about it objectively, which isn't easy right now, it's obvious. He lost control. To him, as a Vulcan, that must have been incredibly embarrassing. I know this as certainly as if he had said it aloud. Then add to that the fact that Spock isn't used to this kind of intimacy. Maybe his flight should tell me something, or perhaps I should be glad he didn't jump out of the chair and run away when I first grabbed his hand.

Several things he said this evening would have given me a clue if I had been patient enough to stop and listen. 

I am not certain this is a good idea…. We should not. I have not…. Jim. This feels so…so good. I did not realize….

The truth is that I've never seen Spock let himself go like this before. The only thing that even came close was the pon farr and then he was utterly devastated and ashamed of what occurred. It never came to its natural end. How much does Spock know about sexual relationships? Has he ever experienced one? The more I think about what happened just now, the more certain I become. This might be something completely new for Spock. 

There's only one thing I can do now. I've got to talk to him. He's got to listen to me, or at least observe as I show him the beauty of giving in to sexual need without shame. Determined, I leave my part of the suite and enter his. I'm going to make him understand. 

¤¤¤¤

I halt as I step inside my room. Jim is lying on my bed, naked, utterly aroused. The hazel eyes meet mine for an instant, faintly insecure but also determined. I watch his body in the faint light from the lamp beside the bed. He is so different from me. His skin is so smooth and the color is warm and golden like the sands of the Vulcan deserts. 

He is beautiful. 

"You left me like this, Spock. You can't just leave like that. Not now."

I tense involuntarily at his words, at the soft pleading in his voice, trying to fight the intense longing that rises in my chest when I see Jim lying on my bed like that. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know that what happened in his part of the suite was only the beginning, but I cannot allow myself to let go like that. Not again. Never again. 

"I apologize, Captain. But I would appreciate being left alone at this moment."

"I won't leave, Spock. I have to show you this. Everyone loses control in bed. Even Vulcans, I would imagine."

The way Jim can see right through me makes me uncomfortable. Maybe I should leave? When I come back later, perhaps the suite will be empty? But I am frozen in place and cannot move. The sight of him lying on my bed, naked, transfixes me. I have never observed before what beautiful hands he has. They are large and powerful, but delicate with long fingers at the same time. Right now, one of those hands is cupping his testicles and the other is stroking his sex, leisurely, wantonly. I find myself wanting to take his hands and explore them with my mouth and my tongue, just as he did with mine moments ago and then to explore the rest of him. I stifle the moan that wants to escape my lips. I still am not in control. Will I ever be again? 

He is indeed beautiful. He could lure me into his world of passion and unrestrained emotion so easily. 

"Do you know what you did to me tonight?" he whispers. 

All I can do is shake my head. My mouth is suddenly dry and I cannot speak. 

"You did this to me, Spock, just by looking at me. I've wanted this for a very long time. I never thought you could feel the same way, but when you looked at me tonight, I could see my own desire in your eyes." 

"I…." 

What he says is true, and Jim's words inflame me anew. I must close my eyes to keep from joining him there on the bed and ravishing him. I do not even know what it is that I truly wish for at this moment. All I know is that something is missing, a part of me is aching and only Jim can make the pain go away. What is happening between us means so much more to me than simply quelling a sexual desire. Does he know this?

"Jim…."

"No, don't say anything. I'm sure that to you I seemed to be in such control, but I wasn't. If I had been, I wouldn't have had the guts to touch you that way. If I were in control, I wouldn't be here."

"What is it that you want, Jim?"

"You, Spock. I want you to make me lose control."

I swallow. My heart is suddenly beating faster in my side. 

"I do not know how."

The words leave my lips before I have a chance to think, and again, I close my eyes in shame. This is too much. I turn to leave. I cannot stay here, not now, not when my body seems to be creating all the rules and I have no way of stopping it from claiming what it needs. 

"Spock." His voice is a faint gasp. "Don't leave."

I freeze with my back turned to him. I cannot turn around. I will not turn around, but how can I leave Jim?

"Spock. Please, don't leave."

The pleading tone in his voice cuts right through me. I have never heard that particular tone in Jim's voice before, so wistful and passionate. 

"Did I make a mistake when I started this?" he asks. "If I did, I am so sorry, Spock. I thought you wanted me as much as I want you. If I misunderstood what happened in there completely, just tell me and I will leave." 

"You…." I pause. "Jim…." I hesitate again, not knowing how to put together the words that need to be said. Frustrated, I clench my hands into fists. It seems that the words I need elude me tonight and I must speak now. I cannot let him bear the guilt I hear in his voice. This is not his fault and not his doing any more than it is mine. My voice is coarse and I still do not turn around. It is so difficult to know what to say. "It is as much my responsibility as it is yours what has happened, Jim. I could have prevented you before." 

I did not wish to and that is what has placed us in this situation.

The silence is complete. I must continue though it is not easy. 

"I do not…. I know nothing of this."

"I understand, Spock, but it doesn't matter."

"It matters. I do not know how to react. I do not know how to…." I again cannot find the words and I know I have to do more. Finally, I manage to force myself to turn around. 

¤¤¤¤

Spock's eyes are filled with uncertainty. I have never seen him like this. Lost, insecure and almost frightened. 

"What, Spock? What is it that you don't know?" 

He closes his eyes as if he can't bear to look at me. His face is so unforgiving and tense. Have I made a terrible mistake? The thought frightens me. 

"I do not know how to deal with so much emotion, Jim."

"Just let go."

"I cannot. I am Vulcan. It is not our way."

"Spock," I whisper. "You're half-human. Don't forget that." 

"This lack of…self-restraint is humiliating."

"It isn't, Spock. Granted, I don't know anything about Vulcan sex in between pon farrs…."

"Jim!" His eyes fly open in dismay. I don't allow his exhalation to stop me. 

"…but sex usually involves losing some measure of control. If you try to resist that, you won't enjoy it." 

Spock remains silent. 

"Would it make you feel better to see me like that, Spock?" I ask. He will, soon, whether he wants it or not. Soon, I'll just masturbate myself into orgasm before his eyes. This conversation has done nothing to quell the need and the desire I feel for him. 

"I do not know." 

"Look at me," I say, softly. 

I am so turned on and I am so frightened that Spock will just leave and not come back. I look into his eyes. They are filled with a desire he can't quite hide and that gives me hope and makes me relax. I'm not forcing Spock into something he doesn't want. 

"I want you, Spock, but I won't ask you to do anything that you don't want to do. I'd never do that. If you want me to leave, I will," I offer once more.

The silence stretches out between us and I hold my breath. I'll have to leave if Spock asks me to. Will I be able to keep that promise? Will I be 

able not to beg to be touched and caressed by him? I have no dignity where he's concerned, I suddenly realize. I want this too much, not just the sex, but the closeness of the best friend I've ever had. I didn't understand how strongly I feel for Spock until this evening. The intensity of the fear of losing him is almost debilitating, but the hope that this will lead to something lasting is even stronger right now. Emotions overwhelm me and I have to close my eyes while I wait for his reply. I crave Spock's closeness, his loyalty, his friendship and support, but most of all I crave his love. I fear losing all of that in this moment. 

The answer when it comes is so soft, that I almost can't hear it. 

"No."

"No?"

"No, Jim. I do not wish you to leave." 

I inhale sharply, desperate for air, and relax again, closing my eyes as relief overwhelms me. For the first time I can truly hope that what happened this night was not a mistake. Then I gasp as I feel something brush my thigh, gently. I jerk involuntarily, and Spock draws his hand away. I grab it. 

"No, Spock, don't pull away. Please. Touch me." 

Again, Spock is silent for a long time. His hand in mine is so warm and so dry. It's trembling in my grasp. That alone tells me how difficult this is for him, and I am grateful for his bravery. Could I have taken this step if I were him? I doubt it very much. 

I desperately want to feel his hands on my body, but I wait. His rigid form is unmoving where he is sitting on the edge of the bed. I can feel the warmth from his leg against my thigh. When I think I am about to go insane, not knowing what to do or what to say, Spock finally speaks. 

"I do not know how." 

"Would you like to kiss me?" I ask. 

"Would that be enjoyable to you?" 

"Oh, yes." 

Spock moves up the bed, and my heart beats faster. I have to calm down, keep the need tempered. I don't want to lose control.

Although that is what Spock wants me to do. That's what I promised to show him. 

When his head is so close to mine that our lips almost touch, I don't have a choice anymore. I've had this erection for what seems like forever, and feeling the man I want so close completely undoes me. I lift my hands and run my fingers through his hair, greedily pulling his head closer until our lips finally meet. 

I moan, desperately, into Spock's open mouth. I couldn't hold back even if I wanted to, and I don't. What I want is to feel this and I want him close, I want him…. His lips are softer and warmer than I remember. They also seem far more skilled than I thought they would be. He allows my tongue inside, and I accept the invitation and moan again as he sucks on it, wetly, eagerly. He tastes faintly of the Sa'tai-is and the memory of his lips closing around one of the smooth vegetables makes me moan again. The vision is so sensual, so erotic. I let out a disappointed grunt as he pulls away. However, as Spock rises to let the robe fall to the floor, revealing his beautiful and decidedly excited body, my disappointment vanishes. 

I don't know what to say, so I just look. Spock is tall and lithe, but the chest is finely muscled and covered with a light fur. His stomach is flat and his legs long and wiry. My eyes fall on the Vulcan cock that I haven't seen yet, even though I managed to bring Spock to orgasm. The memory rushes through my mind like wildfire and heightens my need for him. I want to see him like that again. 

His cock is beautiful, long and slender like the rest of him, and hard as steel. Dark blood-green, it is moist and glistening in the light. I drink in the alienness of the double ridges with my eyes, and I can't help but wonder how it would feel to be fucked by that gorgeous cock. I want to touch it, and I reach out to do so. 

"No, Jim," Spock says and gently brushes my hands away. "It is my turn to give you pleasure. Tell me how." 

"Touch me, just touch me." 

"Where?"

"Wherever you want, Spock."

Spock moves then, and suddenly he is straddling me. I gasp, the pleasure coursing through me is so intense that I arch from the bed, pressing my cock against his hot buttocks, rubbing against the crevice between them. I need to come. I want to come now. 

"Oh, God," I moan. 

He doesn't say anything, and he doesn't pull away. He just stays where he is, unmoving. I squirm on the bed. 

"Lie still, Jim," Spock says, softly. 

The soft, demanding purr is like a caress. 

"I can't. For heaven's sake, Spock. I can't." 

I'm being honest, I'm burning up. I want to be inside him, and I want him inside me. I want those hot hands to touch me. I want Spock's lips on my body, licking, kissing and sucking me. 

"Spock!" 

"What is it, Jim?"

"Do something…please. Touch me." 

Spock finally listens to me and bends down to kiss me. I lift my head from the pillow to meet him. His lips open in a silent invitation, but it's not enough. I bury my hands in his hair and pull him further down with me, finally losing my control completely. I suck at his tongue greedily. He seems to enjoy the deep, open-mouthed kiss that leaves me panting, wanting more. There's hot breath against my cheek and his warm lips move across my chin and touch my throat. I moan. He smells like cinnamon mixed with burnt sugar. The fragrances fill my nostrils as I inhale eagerly. 

"Damn, you smell good, Spock," I groan, and he does. Clean, but with an underlying heady scent that’s all his own. 

Spock buries his hands in my hair, forcing me to lean my head back over the edge of the bed, exposing my throat to his hot lips. His wet, slick tongue makes me squirm even more, wanting more of his touch. He licks at me and sucks my throat and I hang onto his shoulders, digging my fingers into his flesh, hard enough to bruise. 

"I find that you taste good, Jim," he murmurs. His voice is deep and hoarse, telling me that whatever impression he is trying to convey, he is not unaffected by this. He is there, getting aroused alongside me, and it's making me happy. 

The licks become firmer and more insistent, as if he can't stop himself from tasting my skin, and the suction increases. Desperate moans escape me and I'm arching up to press myself against him. I need more stimulation to my cock. I am definitely as hard as I'm going to get, leaking pre-ejaculate. My erection glides against his hot, muscular thigh and I rock against it, desperately seeking more friction. My head is spinning and it is so good. 

"Spock…please…I need…." 

He looks into my eyes and shifts to lie atop me. I gasp as our bodies come together for the first time. It's a feeling like no other. The density of his body is alien and he's heavier than I expected, but I welcome that weight. Another moan spills over my lips as we begin to move against one another, Spock's skin is smooth and so warm, so incredibly warm against me. The hair on his torso tickles, coarse and arousing. I revel in the hardness of his muscles where I would have expected softness had I been with a woman. It is wonderful to be in bed with Spock, something I've wished for longer than I care to remember. 

Spock.

Here.

With me.

In bed. 

Having sex

"Oh, God, Spock." 

He starts moving in earnest then, rocking his hips and rubbing his cock against mine. 

"Ahh, Spock," I moan. I'm getting so close now. So close. 

His face is drawn tight with concentration, as if he is trying to hold back his emotions. 

"Spock, don't…. " 

He meets my gaze, his eyes nearly screwed shut. 

"Don't hold…back," I gasp. 

I am so close now, my cock twitching as I feel his swollen sex rubbing against my own. It's rapidly making me lose the last vestiges of coherent thought, swirling me into the intense pleasure of my release. 

"Just feel it. Oh!" I throw my head back, no longer able to look at Spock, no longer able to feel anything but the intense pleasure as it builds. I'm coming, I'm coming as I feel Spock move against me, my rhythm becoming erratic as I'm lost in the sensation. 

"Feel it, Spock. It is so good!" 

¤¤¤¤

I am trying to maintain calm throughout this, but I find that it is not possible. Pleasure is gathering within me once more and it is too overpowering and too primal to allow me to control it. Jim's head falls back on the pillows, baring his throat to me and my hands are entangled in his soft hair. Burying my face in the crook of his neck is exquisite, and I cannot get enough of his scent or the taste of his skin. He is salty sweet and clean, and I want more. Flushed and tense with the strong emotions he moves against me, enflaming me further. Like he promised, he has lost all measure of control and I am certain that it is not pretense. He touches me with abandon, kissing me, and caressing the tips of my ears, sending chills down my spine, driving me closer to release. He has turned into a being who is steered by his carnal pleasures. I know that it should be appalling to me, but it is not. 

He is beautiful in his passion, so beautiful and arousing. 

There is nothing undignified in the display of emotions on his face; there is nothing ugly in his loss of control. There is nothing disturbing in the musky, sweaty scent of his arousal. In fact, watching and tasting him makes my own passion flare brighter and I finally let go completely. I feel his sex pulsing against mine, preparing for release, and that pulse is his life beneath the skin. The flesh is vibrant, energetic and alive, just like him. 

The warmth and the wetness of his semen as it spills between our bodies are not what I expected. I discover that I welcome the sensation, for it is evidence of how much I have excited him. It is the first time I have experienced this with another. Unable to resist, I lean down to kiss him and his lips are yielding and welcoming beneath mine. He sucks my tongue inside just as I did earlier and it forces a surprised moan from me. I pull back. I am almost there again. 

"Jim," I whisper. My voice is hoarse and quite unfamiliar to me.

"There is nothing wrong with this, Spock," he repeats his previous words to me and without breaking eye contact, he brings my hand to his mouth again. It is an intensely erotic sight, his full, red lips closing around my fingers. The coolness of his mouth and the flicks of his tongue around my fingers are more satisfying than I remember. 

The pleasure that courses through me at this powerful but simple touch is incredible. The need travels like electrical currents through my body, centering in my groin. Once again I instinctively rock my hips against his, needing the stimulation, the feel of his cool, muscular body against mine. My sex is fully erect again. I did not realize how much I have desired this, this closeness to Jim and his hands on my body. He nudges at me and I move willingly to the side to allow him better access. I am fast slipping into the state of mind I first experienced earlier tonight, the world where my body rules and I must let my mind step back to allow my intense need for him to truly surface. 

I am no longer frightened or insecure. Not experienced in this, I have still managed to bring him much pleasure. Jim revealed himself completely to me, allowing me to witness him vulnerable, totally at my mercy. I do not fear doing the same with him this time. Welcoming his touch, I allow him to rule what is going to occur next.

He lets go of my fingers and moves down my body, his skin brushing lightly against my own. No longer able to hold back, I moan as his fingers rest on my torso. His touch is welcome and I give in to the sensation of him caressing me. I have never before reveled in another's touch and perhaps I should find it disconcerting. Earlier this night, I did, and it is not entirely gone, but I fight the impulse to hold back, for I know my fears diminish what Jim is doing to me. 

"Relax, Spock," he whispers. "Is this okay?"

"It is not 'okay.' It is much more than that," I admit in a strangled whisper. "Continue, Jim, I beg of you."

A small chuckle of contentment escapes him, and I would tease him for it, but his next touch robs me of any words I might have wanted to say. His hand rests around the base of my penis and a sudden, cool, moist and very soft touch closes around the tip. His mouth is on me. I gasp, and I know I cannot form any words to respond to him.

The touch continues, so slow it is almost torture. I wish to thrust into the cool depths of his mouth, I wish to lose myself in him and that is unsettling to me. Tension returns and I turn rigid underneath his touch. He knows the tension does not come from pleasure because he lifts his head and looks into my eyes. My agitation must be obvious to him when my penis softens in his hands. It is disconcerting to experience how easily the excitement vanishes.

"It's all right to lose control, Spock," he says again, his voice soft and low, a caress in itself. "It is all right to feel unsure of yourself. Sex does that to us all sometimes."

His eyes are filled with tenderness and understanding, a gaze with which he has never looked upon me before. It reaches something inside me, makes me melt, and makes the fear evaporate like mist in the morning sun. He smiles at me and the smile makes it easier for me to finally let go and lower those shields I always hold up against the world and its onslaught of emotions. 

When my shields are finally completely down, I can feel what he feels. His feelings for me are so much stronger than I expected and my agitation drifts away completely. He cares more than I had known, and my reluctance frightens and pains him. The fact that he is afraid of losing me for instigating this is abundantly clear to me now. The pain of that threat is raw and close to the surface of his thoughts, and yet there is happiness for being allowed to experience this with me. The soul-deep need that he has for me is not hidden in any way. I wish to reassure him that his need is reciprocated. For the first time I dare acknowledge the depth of my emotions for Jim, to myself and to him as well.

"Jim," I whisper and reach out with my hand, resting it against his cheek. He is flushed and his eyes are gleaming in the soft light around us. My pain and the responsibility for it are mine alone, but his? I cannot bear to be the cause of his pain. The gentle touch of my hand to his face is the only way I can convey that all this, what is happening between us, is all right. All I need is time, time to accept what is, and to learn to let him see this part of me that feels so deeply that it is frightening me. 

His skin is so soft against my callused hand, and yet he presses himself against it like a sehlat who wishes to be petted. Clarity comes to me then. With him it is all right for me to feel so deeply and to show my caring freely, without regret, for he loves me. The emotion radiates like warmth from his body and from his mind, and I close my eyes at the bittersweet pain of it. Never in my life have I felt such a strong caring directed at me. What have I done to deserve this love from him? What have I done to deserve the loyalty and passion offered to me so openly? 

"Never fear, Jim," I whisper. "I shall always remain at your side." 

The smile that breaks through then cuts into me like a blade. The love I feel for Jim is painful in its intensity, but I relax and let it wash over me. Slowly, pain becomes joy. I reach out to him and he lies to rest on top of me, wrapping his arms around me and I kiss him, the kiss more tender and less urgent now. 

The arousal I felt has nearly abated but is awakened anew as I feel his lips against mine once more. I writhe underneath him, not entirely sure what I want. I wish to feel his hands on me, his lips and mouth on my body. He seems to know exactly what I need and what I want, even more so than myself, for he touches me where I desire it most. This time I relax and allow myself to be swept away by the ecstasy that his mouth on me provokes. 

"Jim!" I moan as his mouth works over my yearning flesh. My penis is again at full hardness and his cool mouth wrapped around it rapidly makes me lose control. 

This time I welcome it, plunge into it, and it is nothing like I imagined. It is not frightening or humiliating in any way. It is simply a raw pleasure I have not experienced before. I tremble from head to toe beneath his touch, and my muscles tense as I climb toward my release. When it finally comes, I let out a sound that is more like a sob than a moan and he sucks me and fondles me until every last drop of my essence has been licked away. 

That is when I finally open my eyes. 

"That's more like it, Mr. Spock," he teases. "It wasn't so bad, was it?"

I cannot find it in myself to reply as I would have wished. A calm “indeed,” or an emotionless “fascinating” would have been the proper response to his teasing, but I find myself unable to respond in any other way than with a satisfied sound that resembles a purr, and I pull him into my arms, 

watching his golden features as he smiles. I still tremble against him from the aftermath of the emotions. 

"Are you all right, Spock?" he asks. Again, there is concern in his voice and the hazel eyes watch me seriously.

"I am fine, Jim," I say contentedly and manage to sit up and pull the covers over us. 

He snuggles close and my arms tighten around him. I am so tired. When we wake up, we will need to talk, but it can wait. For now it is enough to know that everything will be all right.


End file.
